“No! I said it should go there!” The overseer slammed him against some rock and pointed.

The workman picked up the heavy stone and moved it two feet to the right. He rubbed the place on his back and shoulder where he’d hit the rock. The overseer was not only inconsistent, but easily angered. This needs to go here. No, there – are you deaf! We don’t have time for a lunch break. Get back to work. A funeral? Really! And who’s supposed to pick up your slack when you’re not here?!

Maybe he should find another place to work. But where? His shepherding days were past. He didn’t mind manual labor. He was proud to have worked on the Masada, but the space had a weird feel to it for some reason; and although it was a feather in his cap, he was glad to move on. He’d worked on a few small synagogues and now on the temple complex in Jerusalem. It was steady work, and didn’t appear to be slowing down soon. But the overseer! He dreaded coming to work each day. A tightness in his chest took hold, and he didn’t try to release it. He didn’t believe he would ever be able to forgive the man for his harshness. Or want to. No, it would take some kind of miracle to forgive the guy, and he wasn’t asking for one. He was the worst he’d ever encountered.

He mulled it over. He could use a miracle about now – but not to forgive. No, he could use a miracle to lead him to another job or help him endure the one he had. He’d heard of miracles taking place. Some didn’t believe such things. But he did.

He was picking up another block when a cacophony broke out on the other side of the wall. Searching for the overseer and not seeing him, he moved toward the crowd to see what the noise was about. He saw a man carrying a cross. It was nothing new these days. But something stopped him from returning to work. And the man carrying the cross looked at him, caught his eye, and held his gaze for a moment. A chill he couldn’t identify ran through him.

He wished he could look at those eyes forever, for it was then he remembered. He recalled a quiet night that had been disrupted by the loudest shout and song he had ever heard. He remembered falling to the ground in fear, and running to a manger in the little town nearby. And he saw once again in his memory a baby in a manger just as he had been told, the steaming breath of nearby animals, and how, when the mother picked up the baby, the tiny one looked at him over her shoulder.

And just like that, nothing else mattered.

Images: start-public-domain-pictures.net_.jpg; creche.jpg; Music: Connie Miller Pease, https://www.jwpepper.com/Softly-Now-He-Comes/10686074.item